Deceptive Dragon
by Miss Extraordinary
Summary: POST HBP. Draco Malfoy is granted the chance to redeem himself. His next mission is to join the Order of the Phoenix and be Lord Voldemort's spy, but what happens when Draco gets too fond of his newfound friends? Worse... what if he falls in love? DHr!
1. Failure

Draco Malfoy stayed silent as the carraige rode away. He squeezed himself into a corner looking out into the night. Occasionally, the lightning flashed light on his face, which held a look of utter graveness. He wondered what was going to happen to him now. Severus Snape, the carriage's only other passenger, watched him curiously.

"Why'd you do it?" asked Draco bitterly, "He's going to _kill_ me. He's going to _kill_ my whole bloody family!"

Snape paused and observed Draco, who was still staring out the window.

"You ought to ask your mother," he said, looking away.

"Don't you dare bring my mother into this."

"You failed," said Snape, pausing for effect, "and it was my duty to finish your job for you."

"You _made _me fail!" cried Draco furiously. "If you hadn't... _intervened, _I'd have done it."

Apparently, Snape didn't think this outburst deserved a reply, because he stayed tight-lipped. The carriage was driving upwards now, towards Malfoy Manor. Draco's mouth suddenly went dry. His mother wasn't standing by the entrance doors and the lights were all out.

When they were both inside, Draco confidently made his way along the numerous elegantly-furnished but equally dark rooms of the Manor's first floor. In many places there seemed to be empty slots. Some books from the bookshelves were missing and some paintings and sculptures were wanting as well.

_No doubt the Ministry's work. It's that Muggle-loving lunatic, Arthur Weasley._

Draco came to an abrupt stop. Taking his time, he took out his wand and drew the letter M in the air. His wand left streaks of an emerald-green color which, in the blink of an eye, turned into a solid doorway. Draco walked straight through it and did not reappear on the other side. Snape wordlessly followed behind him.

Draco walked in what looked like an endless stone-floor without walls nor a roof. An uncharacteristically large number of Death Eaters were sitting at an antique-looking mahogany table with Lord Voldemort sitting at the head. His back was against Draco, but he knew the Dark Lord had felt his presence as soon as he entered the room. Snape appeared behind him.

"It is done, my lord," said Snape, kneeling beside Draco, but Draco stood upright. Narcissa Malfoy looked at her son helplessly. Draco noticed how she was clutching her dress like a woman drowning might clutch that last bit of land she was hanging on to. Suddenly, she stood and threw herself at Voldemort's feet.

"Please, _please _don't kill him," she cried between sobs. Lucius Malfoy's eyes flared and standing, he dragged his wife and threw her back down on her seat. Narcissa continued sobbing loudly, burying her face into her hands.

"Narcissa!" hissed her husband. The other Death Eaters looked away from the scene, embarrassed. Everyone was waiting for the Dark Lord's verdict.

"Indeed," Lord Voldemort began to speak as his Death Eaters hung on to every word he spoke, "your son has failed me, Narcissa. You know that he deserves to die..."

Narcissa let out such a wild wail it made Draco wince, but he continued to stare at the back of Lord Voldemort's strangely un-solidified head. It was almost translucent in a way, but Draco tried not to think about that. He could already feel Snape trying to delve into his thoughts, but he expertly shut Snape out.

"But," continued Lord Voldemort, "I see your son may prove to be a far more useful tool yet. He has no doubt learned his lesson, haven't you Draco?"

Draco stubbornly kept his silence.

"_Haven't _you, Draco?"

There was a sudden burst of green light in Draco's head and he suddenly felt like the Dark Mark on his arm was on fire. He bit his lip and tried not to yell out.

"Of course he has," decided Voldemort. Immediately, the pain disappeared. "Now that the Order knows Draco has failed, they will believe that I have given him his rightful punishment... whatever that may be. The story will go like this: Young Draco Malfoy can no longer stand the horrors inflicted on him by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. A sudden burst of conscience fills him and he turns to the _good side_."

There was a sudden murmur amongst the Death Eaters. Most of them seemed to think The Dark Lord was wrong to give up Lucius Malfoy's son.

"What if the _Malfoy_ _boy_ divulges our plans?" asked Bellatrix Lestrange bravely.

"How _dare _you speak of the Malfoy name in that tone... as if... as if it were an insult and not one of the most celebrated pureblood families _in this world?" _said Lucius gritting his teeth.

"You know that's not what I meant, Lucius," answered Bellatrix with equal venom in her voice, "I don't question your family. You know I put as much value into us ancient pureblood families as much as you do, but I want to know how long your _sixteen_-_year-old_ boy is going to hold against the Cruciatus Curse in the Ministry's hands."

Lord Voldemort rose and turned towards Draco.

"The Ministry will have no need to question him if they believe that he has come voluntarily. Draco will return saying he was forced to act or his family would have been killed. The Ministry and the Order will take pity on him and the Order will agree to take him in. Thus, he will serve as our spy. Now that Severus has _blown_ his cover, we need a replacement. If Draco fails this time, the Ministry can do as they wish with him."

* * *

Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy and any other characters, places and/or events that you recognize from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling, and may this disclaimer serve for all chapters.

Author's Note: I would really appreciate constructive criticism, ideas for the upcoming chapters and even just praise. Please do not hesitate to review. **Insufficient reviews: No update.**


	2. Red Mohawks

Arthur Weasley entered 12 Grimmauld Place carrying a face that clearly said: bad news. Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look...

_Thiscannot be good._

When Harry jogged down the stairs and saw the looks on his friends' faces, suspicion filled him.

"What's going on?" he whispered to Ron and Hermione, bending down.

"We don't know," answered Ron in atheatrical whisper. Together, the three huddled togetherobserving Mr.Weasley as Muggles might watch that curious little box called television.

"Draco Malfoy," began Mr.Weasley slowly, "has just been _pardoned_ for attempting murder at Albus Dumbledore due to his having been placed under the Imperius Curse." Mr.Weasley let out an incredulous sniff, "They're just letting him go."

"_What_?" cried Harry, Ron and Hermione in unison.

"They can't have done that," started Ron, "a lot of Death Eaters started off _after_ being placed under the Imperius Curse. I mean, they all just got cold feet and continued killing people after they realized they'd been... you know, killing people... even if they _were_ under the Imperius Curse."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, as it was all he could think of to say.

"Unless he was under-aged,"said Hermione, "If he's still sixteen then he's still under immunity."

"Well, what about his Dark Mark?" countered Harry, "He can't _still_ be under immunity if they've found a Dark Mark on that pale, rich, snotty arm of his."

"But they _didn't_ find the Dark Mark on him," said Mr. Weasley, "not a trace of one..."

It had been a month since Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had closed and Albus Dumbledore had died. Wizards with questionableaffairs were disappearing all over the world. The greatest blow was the mass-escape in Azkaban. Without the dementors, the Ministry was forced to replace them with much needed Aurors. It was only too easy for criminals, including Lucius Malfoy, to escape and join the Dark Lord once more. The Death Eaters were not seen again, but there was great media excitement when Draco Malfoy appeared at the Ministry of Magic, claiming to give himself up. The Order followed the hearing with intense interest. As soon as Harry heard about it, he immediately left Privet Drive and joined Ron and Hermione at 12 Grimmauld Place, impatiently waiting for news every evening. Harry couldn't believe that Malfoy was so easily forgiven. It seemed the whole wizarding world was crumbling without Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh, and one more thing," added Mr.Weasley, grabbing a banana from the table and taking a large bite. "Draco Malfoy is going to be staying _here." _

Mr. Weasley then disappeared into the kitchen where Mrs.Weasley and Fleur would be preparing supper.

"Like, as in _here_ in Number twelve... Did... did you two just hear---?" Harry slowly turned around to face his best friends, but he immediately regretted this, seeing as Ron was wrapped around Hermione in what seemed to be a comforting embrace. Harry's ears felt warm, he knew he was already red. To make matters worse, Ginny Weasley just happened to appear, and taking in the scene blushed as well. For a split-second Harry and Ginny's eyes met, but they both quickly looked away. Mr.Weasley reappeared.

"Oh yes, and he'll be arriving shortly before supper with Tonks," then, seeing the looks on their faces, "Well, he can't go back to the Malfoy Manor now... it's unsafe, and we're searching it _again _for anything... you know dangerous...evil...bad."

"Who's 'he'?" asked Ginny, but she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know.

"_Draco Malfoy_ is about to become my roommate," answered Harry.

* * *

Even to Draco, the hearing went exceptionally quick. He'd been under custody for about a two weeks but the actual trial went for as shortly as three hours. No one really wanted to believe that a sixteen-year-old would attempt to murder Albus Dumbledore.

_The great Albus Dumbledore... champion of the weak... old man with a tacky beard..._

"You ought to know that the Order did you a great favor right there," ejaculated Nymphadora Tonks, she'd already developed a dislike for pale, blonde boy. Tonks' hair was turning many shades of purple and pink, something that caused Draco to wonder what color her hair would turn if he succeeded in getting her _really_ mad, "we could have fed you to the lions in the den."

The two of them made a curious pair, making their way out of the Ministry of Magic. Draco, with his solid black designer robes and Tonks' multi-colored attire made a big contrast, only amplified by the looks on their faces. Draco was cool and composed to Tonks' furious and passionate manner. Draco didn't see the two of them ever getting along.

"You keep lions in your backyard?"Draco'svoice was oozing with sarcasm,"That's not exactly safe, you know. I myself prefer fluffy little bunnies but I guess it's your call."

"Don't you even..." Tonks shook with fury, "you'd be _dead_ if Arthur Weasley didn't have the heart to offer you a place with us. The Death Eaters would be on you in a second if they find out how you've betrayed them."

Draco looked amused.

"The second bit's true," he conceded, "by all means, I'm quite sure my father himself would tear my guts out now that word has gotten out, but do you really think I owe my life to Arthur Weasley? Well, I don't think so. See, I could have been sent off to some deeply respected pureblood family, but _no_... I get to spend my time with Muggle-lovers, Mudbloods, fugitives and the rest of _your_ lot. You see, you _need_ me," said Draco with a sneer, "you want me to give you information about You-Know-Who's doings. Tell me, do you _really_ think I'd do that? I mean, you know, maybe I will if you rub my back or something."

To Draco's amusement, Tonks' hair suddenly turned into a blood red mohawk. For the first time in a long time, he smiled genuinely.

* * *

Author's Note: Please remember to review. Like I said before: **no review equals no update.**


	3. Frosty Welcome

"Nymphadora's late," commented a tight-lipped Mrs.Weasley. No one mentioned anything about Draco. Everyone was trying to make light of the fact that a Death Eater was about to enter 12 Grimmauld Place and quite possibly cause the destruction of them all. Hermione remembered squeezing Ron's hand when she heard the huge row Mr and Mrs Weasley had from their room upstairs, which happened to be exactly above the kitchen. Mrs.Weasley, like the rest of them, didn't trust Draco at all. Especially after the last time the Order of the Phoenix took in a Death Eater claiming to rennounce You-Know-Who, but Mr.Weasley continued to defend Draco, saying Draco gave the Ministry of Magic some very useful information about the dealings of You-Know-Who.

Ron had looked so... sad, but Hermione was comforted when the short squeeze succeeded in making him smile. It was a quick reluctant smile, but... well, at least it was something.

Now, they were all sitting around the table. After much discussion, it was decided that Draco was to sit between Harry and Hermione. Hermione decided to stay quiet for the _entire_ supper.

A door squeaking open, a clatter and an _ouch_ announced Tonks and Draco's arrival.

Silence.

"Hello everyone," said Tonks cheerfully, "Merlin! Is that all the company we're having today? What's with the feast?"

Mrs.Weasley adjusted her seat awkwardly. More than anything, she did not want Draco Malfoy coming in and sneering at her table. She'd spent all morning choosing recipes from old tattered family recipe books and all afternoon working on those recipes. Hermione thought they looked absolutely scrumptous.

There was an unmistakable sound of a trunk being dragged and Draco's blonde head appeared in the room. Hermione checked Ron's expression who was eyeing the perfect apple in his hand mistrustfully.

"Welcome Draco," said Mr.Weasley, "to the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

_This is the Order of the Phoenix's secret hideout? It's nothing but a dusty pile of wood!_

Draco decided to ignore the frosty looks that were shot at him. Instead, he swallowed a lump in his throat and sat on the only empty chair in the room. He casually met Tonks's gaze who was looking extremely threatening. Her hair was already bordering on the purple side but the mohawk was still very much there. Draco also noticed that Harry and Hermione were sitting as far away from him as they could.

_Elbow-room is alright, but a meter on each side of me is a tad bit overdone. Oh well, at least I don't have to share their germs._

"So," said Hermione conversationally, "what made you decide to switch sides, Malfoy? Surely you don't expect we _like_ you better."

"Nice ice-breaker," countered Draco.

"You didn't answer the question."

"No...that's true, I didn't."

Draco wasn't about to back down. He'd had too much experience in games like these, and he watched Hermione take a deep breath and slump her shoulders with great pleasure. Clearly, he had won.

"The Dark Lord wants me dead," answered Draco finally, "I'll be very frank about this... I _need_ protection and this is the best way. In exchange, _I _help you get rid of him. I'm not asking for your friendship, so you can go on calling me 'Malfoy that rotten git' and I'll go on calling you 'Mudb---'"

"You call her that word again and I'll personally crucify you on top of the highest hill for You-Know-Who to find you," said Ron vehemently.

"Right," sneered Draco, "I'll hold you to that."

Draco sniffed at the drumstick set in front of him and slowly sliced a piece. No one else was picking up their knives and forks, but Draco chose to pay no mind. Slowly he slid the piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed. Mrs.Weasley watched him nervously.

"Mmm," nodded Draco, "this is _delicious, _thank you Mrs.Weasley."

Mrs.Weasley blushed, Mr.Weasley beamed and everyone else simply stared in shock. Ron stared down at his plate and took a large bite of the chicken as well. Compliments about the food were randomly popping up all around the table. Mrs.Weasley smiled gratefully at Draco, who smiled back.

_I had no idea this was going to be so easy. Merlin, what an idiot parade._

* * *

After dinner, the mood was somewhat more relaxed. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on their beds looking totally puzzled.

"What just happened down there?" asked Harry.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Ron, "he's just trying to suck up to us."

"Not to me," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I don't know... his story sounded... I don't know, real." Harry stared at the floor, "I mean, of course Voldemort is mad. Of course Voldemort wants to kill him. I mean, he was honest at least, right? All he wants is to use us as some sort of shield and be as far away from Voldemort as possible. _Not_ that I'm on his side or anything," he added quickly.

"I guess that's true," conceded Hermione, "I guess it's just not easy to forget six years of bad treat--- Malfoy!" Hermione suddenly pointed excitedly out the window, "I just saw Malfoy walk out the street!"

* * *

Author's Note: If you read and like this fic, please** review. **I'm concerned that only 10 people have reviewed "Deceptive Dragon" but it holds160 hits? If you haven't reviewed yet, please review now. It really means a lot, thank you! 


	4. Club Absinthe

"Come on, let's go!" Harry was already jogging down the stairs before the other two had any time to react. He immediately wished he'd been more careful because Mrs.Black's portrait suddenly let loose her trademark shriek.

"Mudbloods in the House of Black! Oh, for shame... for shame!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione covered their ears and moved quickly towards the door, but it was too late. The other portraits had woken and were screaming loudly as well. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared in pajamas and nightgown (respectively), silencing each and every portrait individually.

"And just what do you three think you're doing?" questioned Mrs.Weasley.

"Mum...," began Ron.

"Don't you 'mum' me!" cried Mrs.Weasley indignantly, "Ronald Weasley, you should be in bed."

"How old do you think I am!" Ron's face turned bright red, "I'm _seventeen _mum! I'm a bloody adult, it's about time you let me live like one."

"You _will not _speak to your mother in that tone, Ronald," said Mr.Weasley in an uncharacteristically stern tone.

Ron opened his mouth to talk but instead let out a grunt of frustration and stomped out the door. Harry and Hermione looked at each other helplessly. After a series of looks, they both decided that Harry should do the talking.

"We... that is, Hermione just saw Malfoy walk out into the street," he explained, "we were just about to follow him. You never know where he might, you know... go to."

"Or _who_ he's going to meet for that matter," added Hermione, "please let us go, he might be meeting one of the Death Eaters or something... who knows what he could be telling them. I know how you trust him, Mr.Weasley, but still... he might be lying."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked torn, but in the end Mr.Weasley nodded at them and the two were off. At first they couldn't find a trace of Ron anywhere, the dirty and loud street seemed devoid of life, aside, of course, from the stray cats that came and went. Then Harry spotted Ron's head appear from behind a corner, beckoning to Harry and Hermione.

"Malfoy went that way," said Ron when the two caught up with him.

"You didn't have to wait," said Hermione, "I mean, what if we lost him?"

"Nah, he's taking his time," answered Harry for Ron. Hermione searched Harry's face and followed his eyeline. Draco's hair stood out like a light bulb. He seemed to be... whistling?

_Huh?_

"If he were about to go meet _Death Eaters_," said Ron, "something tells me he wouldn't be looking that smug."

Hermione suddenly felt disappointed. Was Malfoy really on their side now? It was a weird feeling... On the one hand, she knew the Order of the Phoenix needed as much help as they could possibly get, but on the other... she resented the fact that that help had to come from Malfoy.

"Whoa--- where is he?" Ron turned around in a circle. It seemed Malfoy had disappeared. A door banged around the corner. Hermione, Harry and Ron sprinted towards it, and as they came nearer they realized they were hearing...

"Malfoy goes clubbing?" Harry guffawed at the thought, "We came here for _this_?"

Hermione shot a ferocious glare at him. Harry stopped laughing.

"Think!" Hermione frowned at him, "Have you noticed he's led us---"

"Correction, we've _followed_ him..."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione furiously, "As I was saying... he's led us into Knockturn Alley. That tells us the type of people who hang out in there."

"Evil strippers, evil bartenders and evil wizards," recited Harry.

"Exactly!" beamed Hermione, "And with all the noise, it's the perfect backdrop for an inconspicuous conversation."

"With strippers?" asked Ron.

"With Death Eaters," answered Hermione.

"Bright girl," said a cold raspy voice emerging from the shadows, "Hard to believe you're a Mudblood."

* * *

Draco entered the club _Absinthe_ with the bored look of someone who had been there quite often. He hated the place.

_Trashy music._

He wondered how Dolohov was doing with the three outside. Strangely enough he didn't care much, he was more worried about meeting his father tonight.

"Draco..." Lucius Malfoy's icy voice cut through the air. The voice came from behind, but Draco didn't flinch, "VIP room three. I'll be joining you shortly." Father and son then went in separate directions without even glancing at each other. It had been like this all his life. Lucius Malfoy's relationship with the fruit of his loins was nothing but a business contract. Draco was his heir and his offering to the Dark Lord... nothing more.

Up in VIP room three, Draco waited for his father patiently, spreading himself on one of the red, velvet sofas and sipping a cocktail.

_I **hate** red._

When Lucius finally entered, he was not alone. A breath-takingly beautiful girl with silvery hair accompanied him. Draco was suddenly alert. He had been told this was going to be business meeting and frankly, he was sick of his father's attempts as matchmaker, but this girl was different... he could tell.

"It 'as been too long, Draco," said Gabrielle Delacour.

* * *

Author's Note: The **reviews** have been making me very happy, thank you so very much! Please keep them coming. When I see that there's a good response to my fic it makes me want to write more! I've only been getting positive reviews which is fantastic. The little problem with the spelling mistakes has come to my attention, however, and I've decided that I need a **BETA**. I'm hoping one of the gracious readers of this fanfic will want to take up the post. If so, just tell me in a review. 


	5. Innocent White Dress

"Gabrielle..." murmured Draco, standing up from the couch and kissing her hand.

"Draco," smiled Gabrielle mischievously, "_toujours gentil_."

* * *

Draco had not seen Gabrielle since that summer when Draco's mother had brought him to Milan. There, Draco and Narcissa had been watching a Muggle fashion show by a label called "Dolce & Gabbana." Lucius had called the trip a treachery to the name of Malfoy. He firmly believed that purebloods should not have anything to do with Muggles, but Narcissa argued that if her family had to wear Muggle clothing in the presence of Muggles, they would do so in the highest of fashion. She said that nothing short of the best should be associated with the name: Malfoy. This suited Lucius quite well. As Draco and Narcissa sat in the first row, suddenly the lights went dark and the models stopped walking up the runway. Then a shadow of a petite girl with hair that rippled without wind was seen behind the screen. As the screen went up, the room was filled with turquoise light and the girl approached the head of the runway solo. She wore a neon yellow chiffon dress with a lime green gauzy material as lining. The audience was captivated. When she was about to pass, she suddenly turned towards Draco. Draco's eyebrows twitched with surprise as Gabrielle blew a kiss straight at him.

_I know you, stranger..._

* * *

"So... what brings you to England?" asked Draco.

"A job," answered the partly-veela model, then she added flirtatiously, "and maybe somezing about you also..."

"A modelling job?"inquired Draco, the corner of his mouth showed only the slightest hint of a smile.

"_Non, je travaille pour ton pére_."

Draco glanced at Lucius, then back to Gabrielle.

"What type of job are you doing for my father?" Draco led Gabrielle to the couch he had been sprawling himself on.

"Somezing concerning Harry Potter," answered Gabrielle, examining her nails. "_C'est n'est pas dificile_. I only need to seduce 'im, you understand?"

"Ah," Draco finally understood, "chaos."

"People are always easier defeated when divided," Lucius Malfoy spoke for the first time, "You'll be responisble for her. You shall watch over her and make sure she has... oppurtunities."

Draco's face darkened.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to gain their trust after all these years? How am I supposed to _integrate_ her when---?"

"What was that, Draco?" asked Lucius nonchalantly.

Draco swallowed and tried to calm down.

"I will do my best, father," he said through gritted teeth.

* * *

"_Expelliarmus_!" Ron aimed his wand at Antonin Dolohov, but before he could shoot a harmful spell at the Death Eater, Dolohov disapparated and reappeared behind him. Ron fell to the floor as his assailant buried his elbow into a certain spot on the boy's neck.

"_Cruc_---"

"_Conjunctivitis_!" bellowed Harry as Hermione scrambled for her wand. Dolohov's eyes encrusted together but this didn't seem to bother him much. He made no move. He just stood there. It seemed as if he was waiting for something. Without opening his mouth, Dolohov's wand flew back into his hand. Harry and Hermione realized that to beat this man, they would have to be able to do spells without speaking.

_Focus Hermione... you can do this, you've done it in class..._

Dolohov's eyes were back to normal, he had already succeeded in immobilising Harry, and just as he was about to raise his wand, Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the spell in her mind. Suddenly, the Death Eater burst into fire.

"_Evanesco_!" added Hermione, and Dolohov disappeared. Then, turning to Harry, she said, "_Finite Incantatem_." Harry's fingers twitched and slowly he felt the life come back to him. When he saw Hermione, he smiled at her gratefully, but Hermione was already running towards Ron who was just beginning to sit up.

"Ron, are you alright?" she asked eagerly.

"Yeah," he answered rubbing his neck, "I think I am. Let's go find Malfoy."

"I'm _really_ disappointed in you three," said an excruciatingly familiar voice, "followed me, did you?"

Draco was leaning with one foot up against a wall. He wasn't sneering at them, he just stared into the darkness in front of him. His blonde hair shined in the moonlight and his pale skin was clearly visible against the night. Then he looked straight atHermione with cold silver eyes. He had that way of looking at people... making them feel inferior, but Hermione clenched her jaw and stared back defiantly. Then Gabrielle appeared at the doorway, having changed into a white empire-cut dress of some flowy material. She tilted her head and smiled when she saw Harry, shooting him a look of pure innocence.

"I was supposed to meet Gabrielle here," drawled Draco. "I was just about to bring her back to her hotel."

"Gabrielle Delacour?" Ron looked, to Hermione's annoyance, completely stupefied, "How? Why?"

"Why am I 'ere?" Gabrielle managed to look hurt, "Why, Fleur's wedding! I don't understand 'ow you could possibly 'ave forgotten!"

Now it was Draco's turn for shock. His expression betrayed curiosity.

"What wedding?"

"My sister, Fleur, is marrying Bill Weasley." answered Gabrielle, who only had eyes for Harry, allthough Ron was looking at her, mesmerized. When Harry eyed her she looked away uncomfortably, but glanced tentatively back. "I-I am tired... shall we go now, Draco?"

Draco straightened his back and began walking away with his hands in his pockets. Hermione followed him suspiciously with her gaze as Gabrielle followed Draco with her hands held in front of her dress timidly. When they disappeared into the shadows, Hermione turned to Ron furiously.

"Oh Ron, have you absolutely no self-control?"

"What did I do this time?" Ron's mouth gaped open.

"You... you..." Hermione sighed exasperately then began striding back towards Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry glanced at Ron then nicked his head towards Hermione.

"Go..." mouthed Harry. When Ron ran off, Harry looked over his shoulder towards the direction Draco and Gabrielle took. He thought he heard a ripple of laughter, but he decided he dreamed it.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you very very much to yingnyang for that excellent review! I hope this version of chapter five is more acceptable. I found that there was no way to remedy the chapter without revising it.

Please **review** on your way out. What do you like and not like? What would you like to see more or less of in the following chapters?


	6. Never Defy Me

_A little boy weeps in a corner. His father towers over him menacingly as the shadows begin to creep closer and closer around them. The boy raised his head for a moment. His grey eyes quaked with fright as the imminent figure before him questioned him threateningly._

_"Who is your family?"_

"_Malfoy."_

"_Who do you serve?"_

"_You, father. Only you."_

"_Good," said Lucius Malfoy softly, "remember it. Never doubt my judgement, for I am always in the right. Never defy me, Draco, remember that."_

"_I won't, father." _

_After a moment's hesitation, Draco looked around jerkily. "Where is my mother?"_

"_Your mother is away."_

"_I _want_ my mother.Wait... no... father, I didn't mean..."_

_A slap echoed around them._

"_You won't be seeing your mother for a while."_

"_No... father, no! Please! Let me see her! Is she alright? Did you hurt her too?"_

_Lucius raised his wand as Draco's arms shot up in defense._

"_Father, please... NO!"_

"_Crucio..." _

"NO!" Draco awoke with an abrupt start. Draco's eyes were wide open and beads of sweat crawled down his naked back. He realized he was still in Number 12 Grimmauld Place and in that filthy room with nothing to remind him of home but the green silken sheets he had brought along. He could hear each pant loudly but he couldn't stop. Sitting gingerly up, he heard the wooden floorboards outside his room creak. Draco took a deep breath and said, "What do you want?"

The door swung open and behind it stood Hermione Granger.

"What do you want, Granger?" he repeated.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"I heard a scream," she answered obediently. When Draco said nothing, she continued, "I can make you a Sleeping Draught. All the ingredients are downstairs. Harry needs a Sleeping Drought once in a---"

"No," answered Draco almost immediately.

"Fine." Hermione frowned at him, then unsure what to do, she moved towards the door. Right before she was about to step out, she turned again. Draco looked up at her from under the blonde hair that fell over his eyes.

"I heard you talking about your father. He was... he was punishing you for...for..."

"It's really none of your business, is it?" Draco eyed her accusingly.

"Draco, did your father force you to become a Death Eater?" Hermione wanted questions answered and she was determined to get them, even if it meant staying to hear all the snide comments he had to say about her. "Maybe... maybe we can help you."

"Stop it! Stop it, stop it, _stop it_!" Draco's fingers dug into head. When he looked up, anger was flashing in his eyes. "How _dare_ you, you _bloody_ harlot. How _dare_ you pity me? You're Weasley's _slut_! You're the one who _worships_ the memory of your _cold, dead_ Headmaster! You're the _Mudblood_! Did you hear that? You're the _damned_ Mudblood, Hermione!"

"Draco..." began Hermione cautiously.

"_Malfoy_!" bellowed Draco, "To you, I'm Malfoy!"

"You just called me Hermione."

Draco checked himself. She was right.

_Damnit! How in tarnation am I going to survive it here?_

When Draco didn't answer, Hermione smiled at him nervously.

"It's alright, Draco... you're part of the Order now. We all... help each other."

_Poor Draco... You've had so much, but you've never really learned compassion._

"Don't do that," murmured Draco, calmed.

"What?" asked Hermione confused. She had to admit she was feeling more than reluctant to offer her services so readily, but helping him would be the right thing to do. The right thing...

" No, not that," Draco shook his head. " 'Oh poor Draco, so rich... so handsome... but so hurt deep inside. I think he needs some _tender, loving care_.'" Draco spat the last few words out. "I can't stand that."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She'd just thought out that sentence... well, not in those precise words of course, but something along those lines. Then she realized that...

"You... you can read minds?"

"Involuntarily, yeah..." admitted Draco, looking extremely annoyed, "when my dad taught me Occlumency, he figured I'd be obliged if he added another treat in the bag. It's been no fun, mind you. I mean, who wants to know about Snape's sexual fantasies with McGonagall?"

"No..." laughed Hermione, scandalized. "You can't be serious." Draco gave her a look. "Alright, alright, I believe you but..."

"Eeew!" they said in unison. Hermione out of sheer disgust and Draco just because he knew she was going to say that. Hermione gave a small laugh. It was a weird feeling, laughing with your _sworn enemy._ In spite of herself, Hermione started to wish that he was always like that. Then she saw the amused look on Draco's face and covered her mouth, knowing he'd just read her mind again. Hermione wavered helplessly.

"Well, try to sleep alright?" Finally, she walked out the room as she meant to do in the first place. She struggled to keep her mind blank until she was back in the room she shared with Ginny. Maybe she didn't get the answers tonight, but getting them tomorrow would be just as fine.

* * *

When Draco awoke again the next morning, the curtains were being drawn by a smiling Mrs.Weasley.

"It's late," she said, "There's breakfast downstairs. Don't worry, everyone's still waking up like yourself. Ron hasn't told me what you four were doing last night, but I was hoping you would?"

Draco was speechless. No one had ever smiled at him like that. He didn't know anyone could smile like that. His life had been made up of taking ridicule from his father and overindulgement from his mother, then at the end of the day, faking a smile in the presence of strangers' shadows. Lucius' Golden Boy. The Malfoy Boy.

"I... I was meeting a lady friend, then I... that is, I ran into them on the way back. I apologise I didn't take my leave with you first." Draco recovered his dignified voice. The one he used when his parents' friends were around.

"Oh, that's quite alright," said Mrs.Weasley warmly, "I'll let you change for breakfast then. My, the _dust_ in here!"

Mrs.Weasley left the room, leaving Draco feeling somewhat confused..

_Why are they all so bloody nice to me?_

Draco slid out of bed and opened the closet. Looking out his window he observed that the weather was quite sunny. Draco found it strange that this time of morning seemed to be the only time of day when the streets of Grimmauld Place were noiseless. He chose a pair of Versace jeans and a white buttoned shirt, the sleeves of which he rolled up casually. He didn't have a mirror in the room, but he knew he looked brilliant. Then he thought about the type of clothes Harry and Ron wore and frowned. He couldn't believe it, but he knew he would feel overdressed even just in his casual Muggle-wear. Draco entered the closet with his back against the clothes and gave the sliding door a tap with his wand. Then he swerved around and the closet and turned into a whole room. He didn't look perturbed at all. Draco made his way towards the t-shirts. He chose an Armani Exchange orange t-shirt and an un-buttoned, olive green, collared shirt over it. The combo looked absobloodylutely spiffing with his jeans. On a shelf a little further away, he picked "Bangkok," a Swarovski anti-allergic crystal watch. To complete it all he wore his customized nikes. Draco didn't think he could look less like himself, but he knew he looked good.

_Better skip the gel..._

Finally, Draco was out of the closet and walking down the stairs. Harry was eating his French toast, Ron was devouring left-overs from last night and Hermione wasn't looking at him. Ginny moved out the kitchen with her own plate of French toast as Draco took his seat.

"Ginny, can you pass me the eggs?"

Ginny stared at him. Then after a pause, she held out the plate of scrambled eggs.

"Sausages, _Malfoy_?" she asked stonily. Draco observed that she held her arm out as far as she could.

"Er...yes," Draco stood to reach over the other side of the table, but Hermione stood first and took the plates for him, "Thanks... Hermione," he said forcefully. Hermione gave him a short tight-lipped smile.

Harry and Ron were eyeing them both suspiciously.

_Nothing wrong about calling people by their real names, is there?_

"I'm going to Diagon Alley to pick up a few things, do you children want to come?" asked Mrs.Weasley joining the table.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"Really, mum... _children_?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well, do you or don't you?"

A chorus of "yes"s and "bloody hell, yeah"s occured.

"After breakfast then," said Mrs.Weasley, "And you had better help clean up today, Ron."

* * *

Author's Note: This was a revised chapter (had to tone down the Draco/Hermione scene) and the longest chapter yet! I hope you all liked it. There was supposed to be more into it, but I don't have time to write anymore and I haven't updated in about two days so I figured I'd better update now. Please take the time to** review**, and thank you to those who have. I'd appreciate reviews for every chapter by the way. Well, have a nice day! ...Miss Extraordinary 


	7. Like A Row of Ducklings

"Are we all here?" asked Mrs.Weasley loudly. Yes, they were all there. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and even Draco. Ron wished that after all these years she'd have finally stopped making them all line up and do the roll call. He braced himself for a scathing remark from Draco. He waited for something along the lines of, "Oooh... Ickle Ronniekins... does your mummy still make you wear diapers as well?" but it never came. In fact, Draco hadn't really spoken much at all since he got there.

Ron placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back as she took a step forward towards the door. The garden was still as unkept as it was before the Order came to use it. Dumbledore said it would be better that way... in terms of secrecy. At least it only looked a little bit dirtier than the Muggle houses along the street. Ron also began to wonder how much longer they were going to be able to stay in Number 12 Grimmauld Place safely. Now that Dumbledore was dead, it didn't have a Secret Keeper so any witch/wizard was theoretically able to enter. There was also the fact that all the safety enchantments that Dumbledore had placed on the house were gone. Of course, there were still some safety measures from the Blacks, but to what extent, Ron didn't know.

The Blacks had a Floo Network connection installed in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but the Order almost never used it (with the exception of Sirius when he held conversations with Harry through the fireplace in 5th year) as yet another safety precaution. That meant they were taking the Knight Bus. Ron imagined his head was already spinning.

"Are you alright, Ron?" asked Hermione earnestly as they boarded the blue triple-decker bus.

"Fine," Ron nodded weakly. Mrs.Weasley was handing Ernie Prang, the Knight Bus's driver a handful of coins. Ron knew he should have felt a little more sympathetic towards Prang. After all, his best friend, Stan Shunpike (the conductor of the Knight bus) was sitting in Azkaban, but all he could think of was the eleven seconds flat it was going to take for the bus to go zooming from Grimmauld Street to London.

_Oh shit. Malfoy... I forgot. Must... look... cool... WHOHOHOA!_

Before the doors had closed, and just before Ron's second foot had stepped onto the bus, it was already dricing away at lightning speed .

"Do you mind slowing down, old man? No one's _dying, _" snapped Draco, after collapsing on top of a seat. Ron would never have admitted it, but he agreed with Malfoy on that one.

"Oh yes, there is," barked Prang back, "176 blocks away there's a stranded witch bleeding pints of blood per second. I'd like to see you have that on your conscience."

Harry's biscuit, which was heading towards his mouth, stopped in mid-air.

"You're not just kidding, are you?"

"No boy, I'm not." Prang's tone softened as he recognized Harry.

Ron, meanwhile, was looking dangerously purple. Draco looked him up and down with disgust, then resumed scowling out the window. With a sudden lurch, the Knight Bus stopped and an elderly witch slowly made her way up the steps. Ron noticed that Prang waited until she was seated.

_Customer favoritism, that's what it is..._

Ron also noticed, with great shock, that the old lady's leg was bleeding freely through her stockings.

"Bitten by a dog, you see..." the witch told Prang, " and me being a Squib too... say, how far is St.Mungo's?"

It was, at least, much easier to hang on to yourself in the Knight bus, during the morning. This was because the chairs were stuck to the base of the bus and a small gate enclosed each seat. Of course, once in a while, there was the unfortunate accident of someone flying over the little gate, but that only happened a few times a day, and thankfully, not this time.

Before they knew it, they were in Charing Cross Road. Everyone made their way out. Mrs.Weasley entered the Leaky Cauldron first, while the others followed her in a line through the door like a group of ducklings.

"Hullo Mrs.Weasley," said Tom, the old bartender, "won't you have a drink?"

"Not today Tom, but we'll be back sometime," said Mrs.Weasley quickly. Tom bowed his head and continued rubbing a glass with a piece of cloth.

* * *

"I will, if you don't mind, Mrs.Weasley," said Draco suddenly. Ron, Harry and Hermione immediately turned towards Mrs.Weasley, alarmed.

"V-very well," she answered, "I suppose you're old enough to take care of yourself."

"What, and we can't?" asked Ron, but only so Harry could hear him.

Draco ignored the rest of them and ordered a glass of red wine. When they all disappeared through the brick wall, Draco purposely overpaid for his glass and leaned over towards the bald and toothless old man.

"I'll be wanting my privacy,do you understand?"

"Of course, sir," answered the grateful bartender.

Draco then made his way through the parlors until the last one where a man in black expensive-looking robes sat in a corner, also carrying a galss of red wine. The man pointed his cane towards the doors of the parlor, which slid shut. They were quite alone.

"Hello father."

"Son."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Indeed. I want your progress report."

There was a pause.

"What do you want to know, father?" asked Draco.

"Tell me about the Headquarters... future plans... members... anything relevant."

"Twenty-four hours isn't enough to find something worthwhile. All I know is that Mrs.Weasley cooks better than our house-elves--- so can we please give them some clothes or something--- and that Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley are going to be tying the knot, but nothing with 'very important information: TOP SECRET' stamped on it."

"Draco..." said Lucius warningly, "don't."

Draco threw his hands up in surrender.

"Dumbledore. Snape tells us he was the Secret Keeper, is that true?"

"Well it figures, doesn't it? Anyway, what does that mean... for us."

"It means, non-members of the Order can enter Number 12 Grimmauld Place," answered Lucius scowling at the hint of arrogance in Draco's voice.

"What are you planning to do?" Draco's back tensed.

"Just make sure they stay entertained in Diagon Alley for a while." Lucius drained his glass and walked off leaving Draco feeling more then a little bit suspicious.

* * *

Author's Note: I want you all to know that I'm keeping all your suggestions in mind and I will try to work them in. Hermione/Ron interaction and Harry/Ginny as well as Harry/Gabrielle and, of course,Draco/Hermioneis coming up, no worries. Also, the last two chapters were revised for anyone who hasn't noticed. I'm really trying to make this story believable and I agree with those who said that I was coming in a little too fast with the Draco/Hermione scenes, but I just can't wait to start writing about them, you know? **Please Review.** Be well. Miss Extraordinary. 


	8. ROAR!

"Malfoy is a _what_?" Ron stopped walking abruptly. A little girl bounced off his bum and rubbed her head, scowling up at him.

"A Legilimens," repeated Hermione, "that's..."

"...basically someone who can read minds," finished Harry for her, "Snape told me."

Just mentioning the name of his former Potions teacher was enough to get Harry seething with anger. His mind rewinded back to Dumbledore's office, when Snape had gruffly pushed Malfoy out of the way and pointed his wand directly at the spot on Dumbledore's chest where his heart was. Without thought... without hesitation he said...

'_Avada Kedavra'_

"Not exactly," countered Hermione, "It's more like... someone who _extracts emotions_ so to speak. The mind-reading part is pure guesswork."

"Snape said something like that," scowled Harry.

"Well it sounds pretty much like mind-reading to me," said Ron.

"Then _I_ said something like _that_."

Harry smiled at Ron fondly. It felt good to be _wrong_ about something alongside somebody.

"Does that mean he's been reading our minds throughout this whole time?" asked Ginny kicking a pebble away from her.

"Well... he said _involuntarily_," frowned Hermione thoughtfully.

"I don't think so. Do you really expect he walks into a room and hears everyone's thoughts? Does he hear them through walls? Then how does he sleep?" Harry tried really hard not to look at Ginny. "Anyway... Legilimency... it sort of delves into your memories, and then there are these flashes of things that had happened before, you know? He can't really be reading minds... but if he concentrates enough, he can sort of--- like you said Hermione--- _guess_ what someone is thinking from the feelings he... sees, so to say."

Harry glanced at Hermione nervously, hoping that she wasn't feeling outdone, but she seemed to be deep in thought. When he risked a glimpse at Ginny, she was looking at him. Both immediately looked away.

Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, Harry had had little to no chance of talking to Ginny alone, and whatever chance he had, he did not use. He had no idea what to say to her. Over and over in his head he rehearsed things he could say, but each suggestion he threw at the table sounded even more moronic than the one before. He'd thought of talking about Quidditch, but he dreaded the moment when the conversation would lead to that first kiss. The one in celebration of Gryffindor's victory... in the common room... in front of everybody. Harry made a mental note to remember that moment in case he needed to perform a Patronus sometime in the future. Harry hated himself for it, but the pang of jealousy that filled him everytime he saw Ron and Hermione together was unignorable. Unlike Ginny and himself, Ron and Hermione stood together in spite of the danger ahead, but then, Harry reminded himself bitterly...

_None of them own a scar in the shape of a lightning-bolt or happen to be named Harry Potter._

Harry dwelled on this while pretending to examine a store window of 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'.

"Miss me, Potter?" sneered Draco Malfoy's reflection.

Harry's head turned towards him, alarmingly quick.

"We really can't seem to escape you, can we? If I throw a stick, will you leave us alone?"

Draco gave an impressed little grin.

"I'd insult you right back, but I'm still asking myself if you'd be smart enough to notice."

Harry only glared at Draco and stalked away.

"Did I say something?" said Draco with a corner of his upper lip curling. Ginny shot him a look of pure loathing and followed Harry.When they both disappeared from view, Draco turned to Ron. "Say Weasley, where's your mum?"

"She went on back to Headquarters," answered Ron, eyeing him hatefully. "Right after you left she got an owl from Lupin so she hurried back."

"What did the owl say?" Draco was dumbfounded. He knew his father was in Number 12 Grimmauld Place at this very moment.

"Lupin wanted her to fetch something, why?"

_Shit. BIG-time._

Draco paced with one of his hands covering his mouth and the other arm supporting it. He clenched his teeth and shook his knee, as he tended to do when he was thinking.

_What to do... what to do... an owl would never reach father in time... I could Apparate there... damn, she must have Apparated as well. C'mon Draco... think! You're a Malfoy... a Slytherin... you can think yourself out of this one._

Then Draco thought of Mrs.Weasley. He knew his father would never hesitate. He thought about the smile she had given him this morning... the trusting tone of her voice... the way she treated him so kindly... then he thought of Mr.Weasley and the way he offered to take him in the Order. At the time, he'd thought Arthur Weasley a fool, and he still did, but he now saw what he overlooked before... the kindness and the decency in the thought. If anything happened to Molly Weasley, it would be the end of Arthur Weasley.

_This is what the Dark Lord would want._

"Draco, tell us what's going on _right now_," said Hermione using her prefect voice.

"'Draco!'" Ron stared at her disbelievingly. Hermione gave him a look from hell.

After a deep breath, Draco bit his lip furiously and walked away.

"I've got something to do."

"Now hold on, there!" protested Ron, "you can't just leave like that."

"Oh, wank off Weasley!" barked Draco, not even looking at him.

"Alright, that's it!" Ron's nostrils flared and Hermione watched in horror as he knocked Draco down with a running tackle. Draco pulled himself up by the arms and dabbed his index finger on a fresh scratch on his cheek. Just a little blood, but still...

"_Goddamn it_, Weasley!" Draco turned over and punched Ron square in the jaw, which Ron returned. They went on like this for a little while until Draco jammed his knee up Ron's pelvis. Ron doubled over and coughed violently. Then Draco joined his arms together like a club and brought them down on Ron's back, who lunged forward and fell to the floor. He was soon up again, but by that time, Draco was already striding away.

"MALFOY, COME BACK HERE OR I'M GONNA FOLLOW YOU, I SWEAR ON MERLIN'S NAME I'LL FOLLOW YOU!"

"FOLLOW ME THEN, YOU BARMY GIT! SEE IF I CARE!"

"FINE."

"FINE."

Draco didn't look back again. Ron, true to his word, _did_ follow him, and Hermione after a confuzzled pause, followed them both.

* * *

Author's Note: I liked this chapter. Maybe I should have put a little more lovey-dovey interaction between Ron and Hermione, but that draft got trashed. I like this version, anyway. I hope you guys did too. If so, tell me in a review! I never get sick of them. Plus, you reviewing this means I'm going to be reviewing your fic. All's fair, wouldn't you say? Pleasant sunshine to you all. Miss Extraordinary. 


	9. Ignis

Draco still hadn't decided. Did he want to warn his father, or Merlin-forbid, did he want to save Mrs.Weasley? Either way, he knew he had to get to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

_That woman has never done anything for you. You're a Malfoy. A servant of the Dark Lord is what you're supposed to be._

_But I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm nobody's servant._

_What's the shame in being a servant of the greatest wizard of the century? Father always said... but wait... no._

_Why do I always have to listen to him? He's... he's no real father of mine. Fathers don't throw their sons in dungeons. Fathers don't sneer when you're screaming in pain._

_Fathers love you._

He looked over his shoulder. Weasley was arguing with Hermione.Draco seized his chance and turned around the corner into Knockturn Alley. He knew the place very well and as soon as he was sure they would never find him, he collapsed onto the ground and crumpledinto a ball. His eyes were watery out of absolute severity. His breathing was constricted and all he could hear was the voices in his head.

_Malfoy. You're nothing if not a Malfoy. Do your duty._

Draco let out an infuriated scream. He banged his head against the wall behind him a few times and then started weeping silent, furious tears.

_Just get there now._

Draco angrily wiped away the tears on his face and staggered up. Taking a deep breath, he took one bold step forwards. Ron spotted him, but by the time he got there, Draco had already Disapparated.

* * *

Lucius stood before Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He could not imagine how the wreck could possibly be the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Chuckling to himself, he kicked what looked like half a cauldron out of the way and made his way into the house. Lucius opened the door and scowled as the dried black paint flaked off and covered a leather glove. As he stepped inside, he haughtily peeled off his gloves and looked incuriously around. His boots thudded on the creaking floors with slow cruelty.

"Kreacher?" he asked the empty hall.

"Intruder! How dare you desecrate _the Most Noble and Ancent House of Black_!" shrieked Mrs.Black's painting. She continued screeching in the most unbearable manner, then, suddenly, there was a pause. "Lucius? Is that you?"

"Where is Kreacher?" he asked in way of answer.

"Gone," answered Mrs.Black's painting, "gone to work at Hogwarts."

Lucius' eyebrow shot up.

"I can tell you whatever you need to know," added the painting quickly, "but I want you to get rid of... of the filth _contamanating_ my house."

A sneer crept up Lucius' face.

"Of course," he answered. "I want to know what the Order of the Phoenix is planning against the Dark Lord."

Mrs.Black paused.

"You work for _him_...don't you," said Mrs.Black sternly, "I will tell you nothing. _He_ killed my son."

"Who? I suppose you mean Regulus? He was coward. A _despicable_ coward. You Blacks have turned out to be one great, big disappointment," Lucius' eyes flashed, "foolish woman. _Avada Kedavra_."

Another shriek filled Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and it was Mrs.Black's last.

"Bugger," said Lucius arrogantly, "dying a second time, isn't it?"

Then the door opened and Mrs.Weasley's plump face peeked through. When she saw Lucius, she let out a small gasp and before she could react, he raised his wand and yelled, "_Stupefy_!" Mrs.Weasley's head touched the ground and blood trickled down her forehead.

"_Mobilicorpus,_" Lucius levitated Mrs.Weasley's body down into the dining room. When he was halfway down the steps, he thrusted his wand down and Mrs.Weasley's body fell violently. He sneered as he heard something crack. "_Incendio_," he added as an afterthought pointing his wand towards the kitchen. It immediately burst into flames. After taking one last look around, he Disapparated.

_Such a waste of time._

* * *

"He's really not that bad, you know that Ron. Maybe if you'd only _try_ to understand..."

"Hermione, _why_ don't you tell me something. _Why_ do you keep defending him? Sometimes it's like _SPEW_ all over again, and you know what? I'M _SICK_ OF IT, AND SO IS HARRY AND GINNY AND EVERYBODY ELSE! HOUSE-BLOODY-ELVES CAN WIPE MY BLOODY ARSE FOR ALL I CARE ALRIGHT? AND SO CAN DRACO MALFOY! HE'S A PRAT AND YOU KNOW IT. I DON'T TRUST HIM AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU:"

Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something but decided against it. She just glowered defiantly.

"Oho, and now he's _gone_! _Well done,_ Hermione," added Ron sarcastically. "We don't even know where he's gone off to."

"Maybe we do. Maybe he's gone back to Headquarters. That's what you two were just clawing each other for, wasn't it," Hermione glared at him challengingly.

_Try answering back to that Ronald Weasley! Just try it!_

Ron sniffed angrily. Without saying a word, he disappeared with a pop. Reluctantly, Hermione followed him.

* * *

By the time Draco arrived, half the house was on fire. The back of the house was blackened by smoke and falling apart. His eyes began to water again as he fought his way inside. Falling to his knees, he crept down to the kitchen, where the fire had spread the most. Then he took out his wand and tried to extinguish the fire, but it had diffused so much what little he had successfully snuffed out, was quickly replaced my more fire. All around him was fire. Then, he thought he saw Mrs.Weasley's body amidst the flames and stared. When the smoke blew into his eyes again, he closed them and looked away. He extinguished enough fire to make a small path in the fire and sprinted through it towards Mrs.Weasley's miraculously unburned but unconscious body. There wasn't enough space on either side of him to levitate Mrs.Weasley without cooking her over the flames so he tried waking her up.

"Mrs.Weasley? Mrs.Weasley, please wake up," he urged, shaking her. He hoped the flames hadn't poisoned her.

Molly Weasley opened her eyes drowsily and looked up at Draco who scoffed in relief. He helped her up and tried to go up the stairs quickly, but it was hard work with Mrs.Weasley's weight hanging on his shoulder and working as an anchor against him.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, something big and heavy fell behind them. Draco was sure it was part of the second floor. His face was partly covered in soot and he had a determined look on his face. Beside him, Mrs.Weasley coughed quietly. Draco's face felt like it was hot enough to boil water... then, finally... air.

Cool, fresh air.

Draco dragged Mrs.Weasley out into the street where the Fire Wizards were finally beginning to arrive. One of them took over supporting Mrs.Weasley but Draco didn't see him. The last thing he saw was Ron and Hermione's identically terrified faces, then his legs gave away and he felt cold, smooth, cement.

* * *

Author's Note: I promise a very loveable Draco (snide comments and all), more Harry, and a Ginny/Gabrielle catfight in future chapters soon. Sorry, there hasn't been much of them, but you know... Draco is priority number one haha... and to Nanie-san who asked for more Draco in black: SURE! No problemo. I just wanted to try something new, but okay. The Dark Mark question shall be answered as well. I was trying to show that Draco was feeling really confused because on the one hand, he obviously really wants to just let his tongue lash out, but he wasn't sure how nice he had to be to stay undercover, so he just basically shut up. I guess that wasn't clear enough though... or was it? Please, please, please review. Lotsa love. Miss Extraordinary 


	10. Renaissance

"If you 'ave ruined his face, meester Weasley, I will be feeding you to ze pigs or some uzzer ugly animal, I tell you!"

"I invented Quidditch, you know?"

"Look, I found him! 'E ees in zis room! Draco, oh Draco, open your eyes _mon cheri_!"

"I wrote a book about it too. Sold all over the world."

"Meester Weasley, I 'ope you are wanting to shut up soon."

"Honestly Ron, you'll be waking the whole of St.Mungo's!"

"You lot! Be quiet. He might still be asleep..."

Draco slowly opened his eyes. Everything was white. Everything was so strikingly white that he had to squint a few times to adjust to the brightness. He wondered how long he'd been asleep.

"'E ees awake!"

All of a sudden, Draco was smothered with a mass of long, blonde hair. Gabrielle seemed to be hysterically wailing, but Draco couldn't feel any tears on his neck. He tried loosening her grip on him.

"Could you..."

"Oh Draco!" Gabrielle dramatically tossed her head back , dabbing her eyes with a pink satin handkerchief.

_Gabrielle...always the little Drama Queen..._

Draco looked around. He'd never been in a hospital before. Somehow, his mother always managed to extract all the Healing Potions he needed from her private supply. In a corner of the room stood Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks. They looked as though they weren't sure whether to come closer to him or remain where they were. Draco surreptitiously searched their expressions for any signs of hostility but found none. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron expectantly ; Ron turned pink around his ears and Harry looked exceptionally uncomfortable. They both approached Draco's bed hesitantly.

"Er," Harry looked at Ron nervously and extracted a small piece of parchment from his pocket, "Okay, er... ready Ron?"

Ron swallowed and nodded, looking strangely determined. Then the two boys began to read out loud.

"We are very sorry... for thinking you were a... slimy git. We did not think... you'd end up not being a prat... after all," they said together monotonously.

"Thank you for saving my mum's life."

"Thank you for saving Mrs. Weasley's life."

"And we're sorry if we've ever said anything... really mean to you... or anything. If we said anything to offend you it was... unintentional."

Harry and Ron looked at Draco expectantly.

"I see you two have set aside this time to humiliate yourself in public. Bravo." Draco's words reeked of sarcasm, but in truth, something about the gesture warmed him inside. A grin escaped his lips unknowingly. In fact, thinking back to the incident at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he felt as if he just signed a contract; like he just made something official: Draco Malfoy was officially on Potty and Weasel's side. Did that make him a traitor to the Pureblood's cause? He wasn't sure what to think, but he knew that, for once, he was beginning to feel like he was truly part of a group, a cause, something. Draco would never have admitted this out loud, but being appreciated and given gratitude made him feel... well, good. Any sort of service he did for the Dark Lord paled in comparison; he was commended and praised, but there was a certain aloofness to it, whereas this felt like being clapped on the back as an equal, as a friend.

Draco was snapped out of his musings by Ron's dangerously narrowed eyes.

"You smarmy git! We spent an hour writing that!"

"Well, it's not like I'm being rude," Draco said this in an almost perfect imitation of Hermione's know-it-all face. "You're just... insignificant."

Draco could tell everyone was trying to supress their laughter for fear of upsetting Hermione, but to their great surprise , she gave a little laugh. There was a collective sigh of relief.

"You are such a prat, Malfoy," said Tonks, smiling.

"Well, you know, I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me."

"Right," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, "still Draco Malfoy. Playing hero for a day hasn't changed you at all, has it?"

On Hermione's part, she knew that although it had taken something like this to happen , her friends were finally beginning to see the good in Draco; well, she amended, whatever good there still was in him. Indeed, she'd wanted to believe that he wasn't the Malfoy they'd known before, but honestly, she'd only have believed that half-heartedly until yesterday's incident. She was right... again! She simply couldn't keep herself from smiling. She had a good feeling about all of this.

"Oh, I hope not... otherwise I'd end up like Potter here," Draco pointed his chin towards Harry shooting him a look of disgust. There was an awkward silence. Then a corner of Draco's lip curled into a little smile and everyone laughed. Slowly, the laughter died, then Draco cleared his throat. "Right, so when do I get out of here?"

"Right now, if you want," said Ginny grinning at him.

* * *

When Draco finished dressing himself with the same smoke-smelling shirt, jeans, and black robes as he had on the day before, everyone except Harry had left. Harry quickly explained that the others had gone ahead and this left Draco feeling slightly put-off, he had just been relishing his new-found glory. On the way out, they both dropped by Mrs. Weasley 's room who was occupied by knitting a sweater. Mrs. Weasley boasted that she was well enough to just walk out of St. Mungo's with them, but the Healers wanted to make sure that her re-grown spine (the former had been broken when Lucius thrusted her viciously down the basement) was fully functional.

"I have a question," asked Draco as he, Harry and Hermione strolled out of King's Cross Station, drinking some perfectly brewed Muggle iced coffee. "Where are we going? I mean, where exactly will the new Headquarters be?"

"My dad's place," answered Harry. "And don't talk about Sirius' house like that. He left me everything he owned in that house."

There was a thoughtful silence from Draco.

"Your dead dad's place?"

"I hate you Malfoy."

"That's irrelevant. Your dead dad's place?"

"I only have one dad, you know."

"Whatever, so we're staying at your dead parents' house?" Draco seemed genuinely interested in the subject.

"Subtlety isn't exactly your area of expertise, is it?" said Harry, clenching his teeth.

"Well...no," answered Draco matter-of-factly.

"I should also tell you that we're moving to the Burrow--- that's the Weasley's place so don't go strutting around or you'll get chucked out and go back to your mental father."

"I don't strut."

Harry scoffed. "Oh yes, you do! Wait, we have to get a cab. Hey! Hey, can you take us to this address? Thanks."

"I will not enter that... wheeled-box," said Draco arrogantly in a very reminiscent manner of his father.

"No choice."

"What do you mean, no choice? I'm a Malfoy. My whims must be catered to. Why don't we just Apparate?"

"Shut up," hissed Harry, "you can't talk like that in front of Muggles."

"Hey, if you lot want a ride, you get in now or I roll," threatened the driver. Draco rolled his eyes at the scruffy-looking man.

"Fine. By the way, I _tread with grace_," Draco pointed his finger at Harry warningly, then bent down to enter the cab. "Anyway, is er... this place we're going to... is it liveable? I mean, there won't be any disgusting infestations..."

"No Draco, there won't."

Draco fell into silence. Harry Potter had just called him "Draco." Did he really want to object to that? Should he really let them both be on first-name basis? He chose neutral silence.

_I should just hex him. It's what the old Draco would do and I'm still Draco._

But somehow, a small voice in the back of Draco's head remarked that he wasn't that same Draco anymore.

* * *

Author's Note: I've been getting some comments that Draco was being too nice... I don't really know (or _want_ for that matter) to change anything in the past chapters, because they're exactly the way I want them, but I tried to bring out the sarcastic side in him in this chapter and will try to continue. Please add a little bit about wether you like this Draco or not in your review.

A HUGE thank-you to my awesome BETA Yuying!

Well wishes to you all!---- Miss Extraordinary


	11. Painting Graffiti

The silence unnerved Draco. He looked out onto the streets, but he didn't really _see_ anything; all he saw was the grey blur of the passing scenery. It was in this moment of silence that he began to ponder the consequences of his actions. What could his father possibly be thinking now? Would he buy the story that Draco wanted nothing but to gain the Order's trust and was prepared to do anything to obtain it? Would he then see through Draco's masquerade and demand the truth? Would Draco _tell _the truth? How would he explain his actions?

Draco paused; he couldn't think of an excuse, his musings had all come to a dead end. He'd neglected everything his father had taught himand for what? Gratitude. Acceptance. But it didn't feel like it was worth it, and to top it all off, Draco thought he felt a slight prickle on his arm. It would not be long before those endless andexcruciating nights full of agony the rest of his short-lived life would be filled with infinitely burning pain.

Draco's train of thought was broken by a series of taps on the cab's window.

"That's your eagle-owl," said Harry. There was more surprise than suspicion in his voice.

"Hey!" growled the driver, "Get your ruddy owl away from my cab! Jesus, what type of people own bloody owls?"

Draco stared up at his owl helplessly. "How...?"

Harry reached over and opened the window for him. Draco's owl held out a rolled-up piece of parchment. Draco quickly untied it.

"Thanks Erus," said Draco to the hovering Eurasian eagle-owl. "I don't have anything for you, but I give you permission to hunt in the woods," Draco nodded at Erus who, to Harry's amazement, nodded back and flew away.

"How do you get him to do that?" asked Harry, not bothering to hide his astonishment.

"Do what?" Draco shakily unrolled the long piece of parchment.

"Hedwig always makes a big deal about delivering letters," Harry clarified. "She flutters in, shedding, her _feathers_ everywhere and it's always a big mess and she always smothers me... and..."

"Sounds like you have an untrained, no, _uncultivated_ owl." Draco cut it **_"_**Well, too late now, if you let her do things like that, she'll stick to them. Better get yourself a new one; however, if you want to _attempt_ training your owl, I suggest those mini-whips they sell at Borgin & Burkes, impressive potency."

"I'd never whip Hedwig," admonished Harry. Draco began reading the letter; his eyes swept through the whole letter, his hand dropped and his chest began heaving. After swallowing a lump in his throat, Draco read the letter once again.

"What does it say?" asked Harrycuriously.

"Mind your own business Potter," snapped Draco before he could stop himself.

"This _is_ my business," Harry's voice rose several decibels. "Are you writing to your dear old dad? Mrs. Weasley told us he was the one who threw her down the set of stairs and chances are, he burned down Sirius' house too."

"It wasn't much of a house if you ask me…" scoffed Draco

"Answer the question, Malfoy!" Harry interrupted angrily

_So we're back to Malfoy and Potter, eh? Fine._

"It's from my mother."

"What?" Harry queried suspiciously and quickly tried to grab the letter away from Draco who, to Harry's surprise, jerked his hand away in time. It seemed that Draco had good reflexes after allalthough it didn't show much on the Quidditch pitch. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with reflexes, perhaps Harry was just a natural with brooms but that was beside the point Harry wanted to read that letter. Draco sensed that he'd have to keep sitting on his hand while wrestling Harry one-handed to keep him from reading the letter.

"Fine," Draco relented. He covered the majority of the letter with his hand except for a patch of writing in emerald inknear the bottom of the parchment.

Harry craned over Draco's shoulder. "'With all my love, your mother,'" read Harry.

"Ha! See?" Draco shot Harry an arrogant look.

"Whatever."

"It is most certainly not 'whatever'! I just proved you wrong, Potter! Word of advice, refrain from speaking or behaving in such a way that makes slugs and other such invertebrates look like Order of Merlin Third Class...ers. Otherwise you'll _always_ end up on the loser's side of the table."

"You suck," Harry enunciated the two words carefully and with as much disdain as possible.

Draco's eyes narrowed into two grey slits. "Wow Potter, no, really, wow! Your _vocabulary_ is _such_ an orgy of _stultifying, cacophonous, verbal depravity_," he sighed dramatically. "Gotta brush up on your insults, my friend."

"Shut up," Harry muttered and made a rude gesture with his finger

"Don't be such a loser," drawled Draco as he put his mother's letter away in a pocket. "Seriously, what with your comebacks and all you're about as entertaining as a child's inflatable punching toy, you bop it, it springs back, you bop it again and you forget it ever existed...okay, that was a bad example, but I know you get my point."

Harry scowled audibly from his seat.

"Well," amended Draco, "I suppose silence is always an option, eh?"

Hermione had just finished settling her things into Ginny's room when Ron appeared by the doorway. Smiling a little shyly, he approached her.

"Hey," he began, sitting on Hermione's bed beside her.

"Hey," answered Hermione looking at her feet.

"So..."

"Yes?" Hermione asked, spying Ron's crimson face from the corner of her eyes.

"So, what do you want to have for dinner?"

Hermione looked at Ron indignantly.

"Is that all you came hereto say?"

"Yeah," replied Ron uncertainly, but upon noticing Hermione's raised eyebrow he tried again "No? I also came to say that I er..."

Hermione was enjoying the helpless look on his face.

"That**…**I love you?" he said finally.

"I love you too Ronald Weasley," beamed Hermione turning to him and closing her eyes.

This, Ron understood; she wanted him to kiss her. He leaned in nervously and placed his lips on hers. Hermione didn't react, but she didn't pull away either. Ron found himself suddenly thinking of Lavender now, snogging _her_ was definitely more intense. Ron didn't trust himself to kiss Hermione the way he kissed Lavender either it seemed so...wrong. It was like painting graffiti on the walls of a church;not that wizards went to church, but Ron was positive that if he was a church-going Muggle he would feel as guilty about french-kissing Hermione as he would painting graffiti on a church.

There was the pitter-patter of footsteps running up the stairs and Ginny breathlessly breezed into the room. "Oh, I am _so_ sorry... I... I just..."she surveyed the scene with widened eyes and trailed off embarrassingly.

Ron and Hermione abruptly broke apart.

"Don't mind me," squeaked Ginny, her hand covering her eyes. Even with all her brothers (and she had six), she would never be used to seeing them snog their girlfriends especially when the aforementioned girlfriends were close friends.

"Never mind," said Ron irritablyputting some distance between him and Hermione

Ginny peeked through her fingers and sighed with relief. "Mum wanted me to ask what you guys want for dinner," remembering why she had come upstairs in the first place.

"It doesn't matter," answered Hermione absent-mindedly.

"Oh," Ginny inched towards the door, "Okay, then I'll..."

"Don't bother, I'll do it," Roncut her off quickly, bounding down the stairs.

"Sorry," Ginnyapologized, settling herself beside Hermione in the spot Ron left vacant.

"No, don't worry about it," said Hermione, shaking her head. "It wasn't, well, it wasn't much of a snog session, per se anyway."

Ginny paused. Then she stood, closed the door and sat back down again. "Okay, tell me about it."

Hermione bit her lip uncomfortably. "It's just that…well, you know I love Ron. I mean, _in him_ I've found a friend as well as..."

"Hermione," Ginny broke in, "please... "

"Oh," said Hermione shortly, "Right, well, the thing is, when we kiss, it's like... I feel his lips alright, but where are the fireworks? Where's the magic?"

"Magic?" Ginny raised an eyebrowat her choice of words.

"It's a Muggle phrase," explained Hermione quickly. "The thing isit doesn't feel special. I... it's just... well, _nothing_. But I love him. I know I love him. This must be what it feels like. This can only be love."

Ginny smiled sympathetically at Hermione's nonsensical rambling, "I guess if you love him, you love him, but Hermione, are you sure? I love, yes I do, I _love_ Ron too. I get jealous of other girls but in a sisterly waymaybe it's the same with you. I don't know but maybe you should think about it."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, butdecided against it. Instead, she surmised to do just that, think about it.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the hold-up! I needed some time to get my thoughts about the plot together and plan the next few chapters out. I would also like to announce that school has officially started, and this year is extremely important to my academic... er... future! I won't bother you with the details, but if I don't get all my credits this year (the easiest of the ultimate hard ones) I won't be able to graduate, and that would be, well... tragic. This means I'm gonna be hard at work in school so updates won't be quite as often as before, but at the least once a week (weekends). I promise they'll be longer! Stay with me!

**Let me clear something up. I uploaded this chapter yesterday and I woke up this morning and everyone's going, "Ron/Hermione!". Ron and Hermione basically hooked up at the end of HBP. That's fine because Draco and Hermione aren't going to be falling in love just because they live in the same house. They haven't even had much time to talk yet, we're talking about this chapter being three or four days after he moved in. In this chapter,I was trying to establish the fact that Ron and Hermione's relationship would never work out and why... because it's too weird making out with your best friend. There has to be a reason for that relationship not to work out, so that Draco and Hermione's future relationship is possible and plausible.**

Thank you yet again to my outrageously amazing BETA! Every phrase of beautiful wording in this fic belongs to her! (grin)


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